Shernaz’s evocative short story on DifferentTruths.com follows Ekaveer, a musk deer seeking the spiritual ‘source’ beyond his herd’s mundane life.

A chilling yelp froze every deer momentarily in its tracks.  They erupted en masse into high jumps and long leaps in a frenzied dash towards safety. Sharp teeth had torn the tender throat and silenced a fawn forever. The helpless mother could do nothing to save her baby except shriek in terror.

In the upper regions of the Himalayas, the air had become thin and very cold. The trees and alpine scrub were already layered with a filmy sheet of snow. The musk deer had begun their descent into the warmer coniferous forest. The shrubs provided them with cover and sufficient food.  Nearly impenetrable, it was their safety net from predators and avalanches.

As they continued their descent in groups of twos and threes, Ekaveer kept a safe distance from the others. He was known to be a loner, and after a few attempts, no one sought his company. His mother, though, was still keeping an eye on him.  Seeing her with her new fawn, he remembered how her maternal instinct had shielded him from harm until he turned two years old.

“Mama, I often get this strange whiff. It’s very faint, but it pulls me towards something unknown. I want to find its source,” Ekaveer had confided once, hoping her wisdom would quench his curiosity. She smiled indulgently and told him not to bother about it. “But I want to know, Mum.” Upsetting silence.

Despite his poor sense of smell, that scent bewildered him again today. Very slight, but it triggered his spirit. It was something that pushed him toward a mysterious dimension. He was aware this thirst was becoming a problem. He had to face it. He had to find what he had begun to call the ‘source’. No discouragement and no criticism would slow him down.

Along the way, others ate lichen, moss and leaves, but he hungered for that elusive something. To find the ‘source’ had become his sole purpose. On reaching the lower regions, Ekaveer found thick undergrowth beneath a widely spread Rhododendron tree. He adjusted his bright blue woollen cap and muffler. His grey, bristly fur accentuated the colour of the headgear and scarf. A pair of warm socks had survived the trek down from the upper regions.

He sat against the trunk, his round ears twitching under his cap. Dark eyes narrowed, lost in a reverie, he was quiet for a long while. Then he opened his diary, noted the details of the trek and once again scribbled, “Whom can I talk to? Who will lead me to the ‘source’?”

He had approached the musk deer leaders in their lonely cave-like dwellings. “You are not supposed to know that,” one of them had told him. “It is a secret that is meant only for a few. We are the priestly class among deer, and we cannot reveal it to anyone.”

Another had advised, “It takes a whole lifetime of penance and sacrifice. You have to leave behind all your luxuries and dreams and surrender yourself.” His tone was pompously ominous.

“Surrender to whom, wise one?”

“To your guru.”

“And where do I find him, pray?”

“He will find you when you are ready.”

“How do I prepare for that?” He asked very politely.

The deer swami’s eyes were inscrutable, his brows furrowed. He waved Ekaveer away, slipping into the disquieting silence of indignation.

Not one to give up easily, Ekaveer continued his search. The more he was pushed away, the stronger his determination to reach the ‘source’. His soul was aflame with drive and yearning.

He wasn’t aware when exhaustion took over, and he fell asleep with his diary and pen still on his knees. Dusk had begun to fall; he was awakened by soft grunts, bleats and snorts. The forest was bathed in silver.

“Come, Ekaveer, there’s a lot to eat over here. We will finish it fast, and you will starve if you don’t start foraging,” the other young ones joked.

Ekaveer sprang up and sauntered off without responding, diary and pen still in hand, backpack hanging from one shoulder.

“Foraging, frolicking, fighting and migrating according to the seasons cannot be the end-all of life. There has to be a reason to live, and mine is to reach the ‘source’. This tantalising, woody smell has to spring from somewhere.” Notwithstanding warning barks and threats of ostracism, he started to wander off into the unfamiliar. Protectiveness that thwarted his interest and probing spirit was a hindrance. He wanted the freedom to be himself. His mother raised a cautious eyebrow, but she had to let him go. A mysterious current, an ethereal force, seemed to be guiding his life.

He had heard the incredible story of a seagull named Jonathan Livingston on his travels through the caves. Making his own rules, braving all odds, this fantastic seagull had found the true joy of living.

The youngsters he shared this story with had laughed.

“So, you are going to be like this seagull and fly!” they scoffed. He was talking to fools, secure in their ignorance and comfort zones. It made him aware that if he wanted to see beyond the shallowness of his deer-clan culture, he would have to walk alone. Risky as it sounded, he needed to stop being part of the herd. He felt his body tremble slightly at this thought as he proceeded, on the alert for any lurking menace. During the day, he looked for steep mountain escarpments to hide under.

One deer yogi had once parroted something he hadn’t personally experienced: “If you are sincerely passionate about something, the whole universe will conspire to get it for you.” No further guidance; not a byte of confidence in the assertion.

Ekaveer decided he had to make the universe align with his objective. He roamed through the forest in a trance, those words echoing constantly. Once, a little before dawn, because of his fixation, he almost became the hearty meal of a lynx lying in wait. He vaulted agilely away. A moment’s delay, and the lynx would have feasted well that night. Ekaveer’s pounding heart sounded like a thousand drums beating together. His chosen path would be treacherous, yet he felt assured that he was on his destined course, being led to something bigger and more meaningful than the banality of existence.

After many seasons had come and gone, one evening the sun set with a bewitching aura. Ekaveer was propelled towards a hidden cave. Entering, he was transfixed. It glowed as if the setting sun had entered it; surrounded by that surreal brilliance sat a strangely familiar creature. The tusks and form cried ‘musk deer’ loud and clear, but he glowed with a golden light; his eyes were translucent pools of compassion.

A wonderstruck Ekaveer put his front hooves together and lowered his head in obeisance. Voice trilling with eagerness, eyes dripping reverence, he exclaimed, “Master, I have found you! I have found you! “Please accept me as your disciple and guide me to the ‘source’.”

“My child, you have reached it. I am your inner self — the Truth you are seeking,” whispered the golden deer in honeyed tones.

The moment was transcendental and transportive, radiantly exquisite, and overwhelming beyond all he had imagined! His being pulsated with joy and gratitude; he and the golden deer exploded, and their lights fused into one pure white luminosity of awareness. Years of ceaseless roving, profound contemplation and perseverance had finally borne fruit.  He became Ekaveer Jagrav — the awakened self.

Brimming with selflessness, he wanted to rush back to musk-deer land, but he accepted the futility of trying to free anyone who believed their fetters were their fate. Wiser than when he had started, experience had taught him that no one could be hastened through their voyage.  When they were ready, they too would find their inner guru. 

Some days later, two sets of stunned eyes peered at him from under a bush. Tracking his scent, aided by birds, they had at last caught up with him as he danced in mad ecstasy. They were the emissaries of a secret alliance of musk deer who had heard astonishing tales about him and wanted to follow in his footsteps.

Would he be their teacher? Would he guide them to break free of their shackles?

Picture design by Anumita Roy

Shernaz Wadia

To Shernaz Wadia, reading and writing poems has been one of the means to embark on an inward journey. She hopes her words will bring peace, hope and light into dark corners. Her poems have been published in many e-journals and anthologies. She has published her own book of poems “Whispers of the Soul” and another titled “Tapestry Poetry – A Fusion of Two Minds” with her poetry partner Avril Meallem.